A Snail’s Pace
Like God, he/she moves in mysterious ways
hidden within a pearly spiral, an apex, a beauty
or a monster depending on your point of view.
Undulating, pedalling in a wave of his/her creation,
a little bit of rhythm and a lot of soul, leaving signs
in the morning light seen only by poets and posties.
She/he is everywhere but invisible; weaving magic
in the green silken night, clinging to the mossy slabs
of country churchyards or clustered by the rowans.
Like God, the Gastropod is a loner needing no mates.
His/her locomotion conquers all, crossing every path.
You must mind each crushing step and wait.
Footnote1:- Lyrics quoted from Locomotion by Little Eva.
Footnote2:- y=speed of land snail, x = length of snail’s foot
Photographic image by the author
And here’s Little Eva performing her 60s classic pop song…
“All perfection in this life hath some imperfection bound up with it, and no knowledge of ours is without some darkness”.
Thomas A Kempsis – The Imitation of Christ.
Image created by the author
If only Eve could don a straw hat and vanish to the Isle of Paros!
Instead, she was trapped in the Garden, weaving hard lines
of blood as the beginning people judged her pink lady tears.
Where was her power over water? Lilith dried out in the desert.
They shall possess her forever and dwell there
from generation to generation.
As the mushroom cloud rose over the maroon lagoon
Eve wondered if it was, in fact, a good time for a trip.
She was wearing her lucky pearls and the new horizon
walking boots, birthday gifts from the ferryman.
It is He who casts the lot for them,
And with His hands He marks off their shares of her.
Sad to see swine die but she was really more of a snake person.
So she turned her last page with the left hand
of darkness and prepared to recycle her perfect skin,
gala smooth and hoping for first prize. Ka-Ching!
Photograph created by the author
“There is no light without shadow, and no psychic wholeness without imperfection.”
Photograph by the author
“You are just as connected to the Universe as a finger is to a hand, or as a branch is to a tree. The entire cosmos is expressing itself through your being.”
Joseph P. Kauffman
Photo of birch tree bark taken by the author
I follow mother’s crooked
path beyond the giant privet hedge
where once I found blackbird eggs. Perfect
spheres of eau de nil slipped through careless
fingers and smashed on paving stones set by father
years before. On the hill, the shed cowers beneath the apple tree
where once I found God. Perched up top, he was singing
Bowie songs and watching the neighbours through binoculars.
Ashes to ashes; Jennifer Jones kissed the coal man.
Dust to dust; Marjorie Moony hoovered nude.
I never done good and I never done bad.
I wanna come down right now and try
mother’s apple pie
The Gleaning is an example of a concrete poem where the shape of the page echoes the theme. This one is supposed to represent an apple tree.
Image by the author